


Arrow: Symbol

by ArlyssTolero



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e01 The Calm, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArlyssTolero/pseuds/ArlyssTolero
Summary: Oliver Queen is spiraling in the aftermath of the Siege, and Roy Harper takes action, approaching the one person who can break through Oliver's suicidal fog: Dinah Laurel Lance. But even as Laurel reaches out, new threats emerge in the form of Werner Zytle, a metahuman with the ability to induce vertigo in his victims and leave them discombobulated as he savagely beats them. Five years earlier, in Hong Kong, Amanda Waller twists a captive Oliver Queen and bends him to her will.
Relationships: Laurel Lance & Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance & Sara Lance, Oliver Queen & Team Arrow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	Arrow: Symbol

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Arrow. 
> 
> A/N: So, I don’t know if I am gonna be able to continue this particular story as it stands but I put so much work into it when I wrote it a few years back that I felt it should be re-posted, if only for posterity’s sake. This story is how I would have written 3x01 if I had been the showrunner of “Arrow” instead of Marc Guggenheim.

The Arrow raced through the brush alongside one of the roads in Starling's industrial district, tracking a semi-truck full of weapons being smuggled into the city by Vincent Steelgrave's crew. Unlike most of the crime bosses in Starling City, Steelgrave had proven to be a wily foe and kept his smuggling operation hidden by his actual business, an import/export company. A combination of breaking into the man's office and deploying one of Felicity's specialized computer viruses that would mine the data from the man's unencrypted computer had given them this lead, and there was no way any of them was going to let it get away. But to ensure that, the three current field agents of what was known by Felicity as Team Arrow (something Oliver tried to keep from spreading because he had a strong dislike for ‘cute nicknames’) had had to plan their layout for this attack carefully.

While Felicity, now codenamed Overwatch due to the fact Slade had hacked into their comms so easily during the Siege (if not earlier), quarterbacked from the Foundry (Oliver refused to call it the Arrow Cave) and Arrow tracked the truck to make sure it wasn't going to be deviating from its route, the other two members of the team had taken up specific positions in the industrial section of the city. Ducking down onto the train tracks, Arrow ran along them as he continued tracking the truck from the shadows, deploying his new, high tech bow as he reported in, " **Overwatch, tracking the target coming up 52nd street, heading East.** "

Back at the Foundry, Overwatch replied, " _Roger that. Or is it over? I can never remember._ " Ignoring her confusion over which acknowledgement they were supposed to be using, she checked her screen, which showed the red dot signifying the truck heading in the direction of the other veteran on the team. Overwatch opened the comm line to John Diggle, aka Spartan, and said, " _Spartan, we got a shipment of heavy weapons heading your way._ "

" **Roger,** " Spartan replied with a hint of amusement, telling Overwatch that she'd mixed up the comm signals again and her confusion about which acknowledgement they were using had been broadcast to the entire team.

Overwatch, being Overwatch, simply covered her faux pas by saying, " _Oh, so it is roger,_ " and heard the rest of the team chuckle, all of them well used to her occasional hiccups.

Back in the field, Arrow ran along the overpass that the trains used and leaped down on top of the cargo container that was being hauled, attracting the attention of the driver and Vincent Steelgrave himself, who was riding along for this shipment as extra security. Steelgrave was a crime boss that had a very hands-on approach to things, which Team Arrow was glad for as it meant a much greater chance of catching the man. Arrow, utilizing a flip that he had learned from one of his mentors, fired an explosive arrow into the coupling connecting the cab and the trailer, which exploded a moment later as he knelt on the roof of the cab. As the now cargo-less cab sped away from the scene, a black van pulled around and a man in a brown leather jacket and a black ski mask exited (he had yet to find a better mask and refused to take a look at some of the designs Arrow and Overwatch came up with). Prying open the container, he checked to make sure they had the right cargo (just in case Steelgrave had pulled the wool over their eyes) and nodded as he saw the boxes containing RPGs. " **This is Spartan. The shipment is secure. Call it in to A.R.G.U.S.** "

" _Roger that,_ " Overwatch chirped, already sending a text message via their encrypted cell phone to Spartan's, well, she wasn't sure what Lyla was to Spartan. Baby mama? Booty call?

" **I can hear you, Overwatch,** " the man in question said dryly, and she eeped. She really needed to figure out that whole brain-mouth filter thing.

Meanwhile, back with the truck's cab, Arrow had begun the final stage of his assault on Vincent Steelgrave and his crew. " **Arsenal, we're coming to you,** " Arrow informed his partner before holding onto the roof with one hand and hanging down on the passenger-side, where he delivered a punch to Steelgrave's jaw, disorienting the man. Pulling himself up onto the roof of the cab, Arrow rolled to the opposite side of the cab and performed the same move on the driver's side, but this time knocking the driver out completely. Pulling the steering wheel hard in his direction, Arrow directed the truck cab down a side street.

At the end of this street, the red-clad figure of Roy Harper, aka Arsenal, flipped over a car and landed in the street several yards in front of the oncoming semi. He fired a pair of arrows into the tires of the truck, which stopped just short of where he stood. The driver took a shot at Arrow through the window of the cab, and it caught him in the chest, where his kevlar underlay caught it. That still knocked him off of the cab and he landed on the street, out of breath for a moment. The driver took this as an opportune moment to escape and exited the cab, only to get tripped by the waiting Arsenal, who delivered a knock-out blow as Arrow pulled himself back to his feet. The two noted Steelgrave running. Arrow, trusting Arsenal had things well in hand with the driver, took off after the mob boss.

Steelgrave ducked into a warehouse, and Arrow followed him, amusing himself with the fact the city's crime lords still hadn't gotten it into their heads that he had explored many of the more obvious places to duck into when on the run from someone and scared out of your mind, as most of the city's common criminals were of Arrow. As a result, more often than not they took the exact routes that he expected them to, making capturing them so much easier. Seeing that Steelgrave was heading the long way around the warehouse, hoping to lose him, Arrow ducked through a short cut he had discovered and came out just as Steelgrave passed by. Arrow shot a bolo arrow at the man, and as he writhed on the ground, bound like a Christmas package, Arrow walked calmly up to the man and delivered his infamous line: " **Vincent Steelgrave, you have failed this city!** " A quick punch with his bow later, and Steelgrave was knocked out.

**_*DC*_ **

While waiting for the rest of the team to come back, Felicity was watching an early-morning talk show. "The Arrow just took down another one of the city's most wanted," the female co-host said. "There's no denying the city's crime rate has plummeted in the past five months."

"You're welcome," Felicity said to the screen, even as the male host began speaking.

"But so has its employment rate and its population," the man said. "Starling City is dying, and a prison full of criminals isn't going to bring it back to life."

"Take another off the board," Oliver said as he, Roy, and Dig entered the Foundry. Felicity turned off the program and headed to the digital display where they were keeping track of all the major and minor crime bosses they had been taking down. While Diggle and Felicity were convinced that they were taking them all down, Roy had confided in Oliver that the best crime bosses in the Glades kept themselves anonymous, manipulating things from the shadows. He even pointed out that Oliver used to know that when he had first started out. Oliver had been surprised at the allusion to the List and began wondering if he had done the right thing. He still had his copy here in the Foundry, but he hadn't looked at it in a long time.

Diggle moved up to the display and mused, "We keep this up, and the only criminals not running out of town will be running scared." Behind the two, Oliver and Roy exchanged a look that went unnoticed by the two members focused on the digital display. Despite attempts by both of them to point out things were still bad and were only going to get worse, Felicity and Diggle seemed intent on believing that they were truly making a difference. Maybe in their minds they were, but Oliver and Roy both knew it wasn't going to be enough to get rid of the street criminals if things remained the status quo. There was still a major sickness in the city, and Oliver knew where it came from. He just didn't know if Felicity and Diggle would stick around if he went back to the List. Both had expressed concerns about it during that first year, but he had ignored it. Then afterward, the List had been a reminder of his failure to stop the Undertaking, Tommy's death, and so much more. At this point, going back to the List could mean disrupting the well-oiled machine that his team had become, especially if Diggle and Felicity chose to protest the return to the original mission, even if it did lead to cleaning up the Glades even further.

Oliver noted a new addition to the equipment. "What is that?" he asked. Felicity, looking over to see what he was talking about, brightened up a bit.

"It's a fern," she said. "It thrives in low light. I thought since you were living here now, the place could do with some sprucing up."

Oliver let out a chuckle, but the others were quick to note the humorless undertone to it. "Felicity, your ability to try and find a way to brighten things up is remarkable," he said, and she preened under the praise. "However," he continued, which led to Felicity's mood dropping slightly, "everything in this room has a purpose. The computers, the salmon ladder, the stands for our weapons and outfits, even the cot I sleep on can be turned into something to hide behind if the Foundry ever gets attacked again because the fabric used to make it is bulletproof. While I appreciate your attempt to brighten the place up a bit, this isn't a home, or an office like the think tank front that A.R.G.U.S. puts up or Queen Consolidated. This is an operations center. Take the fern home with you if you want, but it's just in the way here." Oliver turned and headed behind some screens to change, leaving the other three to exchanged concerned looks.

It had been subtle at first, but as the months since the Siege had went on, the three of them had noticed the change in Oliver's demeanor. He had stopped talking about himself in the third person for the most part when speaking of the actions he took as Oliver Queen or as the Arrow, but the way he spoke of himself now had them wondering if Oliver's heart was still in the fight. While Roy agreed that there was more corruption in the city than Felicity and Diggle were willing to admit, he had noticed that his mentor was slowly beginning to lose hope in defeating that corruption, in pulling the city back from the precipice. Oliver had been spending less and less time out in the city as Oliver Queen, and more time under the hood as the Arrow.

Felicity sighed as her phone buzzed. "Great," she muttered. "My day job. See you all later," she said, picking up her bag and the fern and heading for the stairs. Roy gave Diggle a hard look and jerked his head in the direction of the curtains before heading there himself. Dig shook his head as Oliver and Roy traded places. The young man from the Glades knew how often Dig had had to talk Oliver down from a ledge, so to speak, and while the three of them had talked about confronting Oliver about his current outlook, Diggle wasn't sure now was the time.

Rather than force a confrontation before he felt it was needed, Dig told Oliver, "I'm headed out, too. Lyla's got me trying to build the bassinet from hell."

Oliver, to his surprise, smiled and said, "That reminds me." He gestured for Dig to follow him. The two men headed over to where a small box was lying. Oliver said, "Open it." Dig did as he was asked and found a small silver pendant on a chain resting in the box. "I figured since you and Lyla are having a girl…"

Dig looked over at his friend with a smile. "Man, you cannot afford this," he said.

"I'm not exactly broke, but I didn't buy this, I made it," Oliver replied. "Arrowheads. One of the few things I can make."

"Well, it's beautiful," Dig replied. "Thank you."

"Congratulations, John," Oliver told him, prompting Dig to look up at him again. "And not just on the baby. You and Lyla are happy."

Dig looked up and decided this was a good way to broach the issue Roy, Felicity, and he had noticed, though he would have to do it subtly. "You should try it sometime."

Oliver gave a fake smile as he looked Diggle in the eyes. "My last girlfriend sold her soul back to the League of Assassins because we needed back-up against Slade and his army," he said quietly. "My girlfriend before that was shot by my girlfriend before that. And Laurel…" Oliver trailed off, looking down at the table in thought and therefore missing the brief grimace that Diggle portrayed. The bodyguard felt that Oliver's hang-ups when it came to the Lance sisters was an issue as far as team cohesion was concerned, ever since Oliver had abandoned helping him with Deadshot in order to take down Edward Rasmus. He had gotten closure, thanks in part to Oliver, the previous year, but Oliver still had a blind spot for the Lance sisters, both of them. Diggle had to admit he didn't understand it, but that was probably because none of his friends from childhood were still in his life.

Oliver proved he was more intuitive than he let people believe as he spoke again. "I know what you think about me and Laurel and Sara," he began. He raised a hand to stop Diggle from speaking. "I can't explain to you the draw they have on me, Dig. All I know is that I know I can be myself with them. I can finally be myself with Laurel instead of hiding behind a mask. And not that one," he added, pointing in the direction of the glass case containing his Arrow uniform. "The mask I show the public as Oliver Queen… I don't have to wear it with her anymore. But I'm afraid to reach out, because what if I'm destined for a pine box, if that? Why should I be with anyone, much less marry them, if I might leave them a grieving widow?"

Oliver, apparently feeling he had spent too much time talking, turned away and headed for the stairs, leaving a disturbed John Diggle behind. Dig exchanged a look with Roy, who had come out from behind the curtains and was looking after his mentor with concern. Roy looked over at Dig. "You know what?" he said. "Forget I suggested you talk to him. You're so hung up on trying to get him and Felicity together you've lost sight of who he is." Roy pulled on his hoodie and headed for the stairs, leaving Diggle to consider his words before he, too, left the Foundry.

**_*DC*_ **

_In an undisclosed location in Hong Kong, there was what appeared to be a warehouse. In truth, it was merely a cover for the base underneath. An operation base for A.R.G.U.S., the location had served as their window into the dealings of the People's Republic of China for some time, and it had seen more than its share of interrogations. For the past five months, however, it had served as the location where an asset was being turned. That asset was Oliver Queen, the missing scion of the wealthy family from Starling City who was believed to be dead. In truth, he had been on the island of Lian Yu for the last two years, and after studying him through their hexagon keyhole satellite, A.R.G.U.S. Director Amanda Waller had decided that Queen would make a useful asset._

_The turning of an asset for field operations rather than simply using them as an information source required a level of finesse that most agents of A.R.G.U.S. simply didn't have. They were blunt instruments, lethal and ruthless, but generally not sent on missions that required that particular skillset. Waller had sent two of the agents who did have such training to try to turn Queen, and both had failed. So, she had come herself, the first time she and Queen would be in the same room since the end of his debrief upon arriving at the base five months ago. His report on the experiments of Dr. Anthony Ivo and the way the Mirakuru had warped the mind of Slade Wilson had been troubling. If they had had the ability to make such a serum back in the 40s, what could they be capable of now? A good part of the past five months had been spent embedding agents and turning assets in Japan to begin gathering intelligence on whether anyone there was working to rediscover the Mirakuru._

_Approaching the door to the room where Queen was being held, Waller noted the guards straighten up slightly at her approach. Any other superior might have smiled at seeing their underlings straighten up at their approach, but Amanda Waller was not that kind of person. She only cared about results, and so long as the guards didn't allow the 'guest' to escape, she could care less if they stood as though they had poles shoved firmly up their backsides while on guard duty. What they needed to be was alert, and she could tell even when they appeared relaxed that they had been alert. Otherwise they wouldn't have even noted her arrival before she was on them._

_"I'll take it from here, gentleman," Waller told the two guards, who nodded and left the director facing the door. Squaring her shoulders slightly, Waller entered the cell, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light it was kept at for a moment. The occupant of the cell was hanging by his wrists on a pair of chained manacles. Those same manacles were attached to a reinforced steel beam some twenty feet above them. Queen's toes were a few centimeters off the ground, his head covered in a black bag and a pair of sound-dampening headphones placed over that. He was left like this for at least two hours per day, to aid in the process of breaking him._

_Removing the headphones and the bag, Waller waited as the man's senses readjusted._

_Oliver Queen blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to sight once more, and his ears again picked up the faint dripping of water in the background and the sound of a city's hustle and bustle above them. Finally, he focused on his latest visitor and his eyes narrowed, eyes like a pair of ice chips as he saw the woman who had promised to let him go home, only to renege and keep him locked up like some kind of animal. "_ You. _"_

_"Hello, Mr. Queen," Waller said, pulling up a seat and sitting a few feet away. "We have a lot to discuss."_

**_*DC*_ **

It was 8:30 a.m., and the D.A.'s office was already buzzing with word of the Arrow's capture of Vincent Steelgrave. Out of all the A.D.A.’s working in the office, only one had the inside track into the mind of the city's guardian archer, and that particular A.D.A. was currently studying up on the Steelgrave case. Her new boss, Suzanne Devereaux, had assigned her the case and just eyeballing it, Dinah Laurel Lance knew that the case would be a slam-dunk, especially with the evidence Oliver had gathered.

_Oliver._ Laurel sighed as the same thoughts that had been percolating through her mind since their argument outside of her apartment entered her mind again. Oliver's declaration that he had loved her for half of his life, followed up by his choice to not chase after her anymore, had been the shock to her system she needed, and she had been trying to deny why that was for so long. It was easy to lash out at Oliver for entering into a relationship with Sara, to lash out at Sara for once again causing upheaval in their lives, and everything else she had done while suffering from alcoholism and addiction. But it had been the declaration of a man she still considered the love of her life that he was done chasing after her and telling her to go ahead and go drink at Verdant, that he'd pay for her habit, that had shaken her to her core.

As a result, Laurel had taken a look at herself, at what she had become since Tommy died, and she had realized just how far she had fallen from the person both Tommy and Oliver had loved. So, she had decided to become that person again, but a stronger version, one that wouldn't take his constant bullshit, whether that was his trying to 'protect her' like she was some porcelain doll or (if they did end up ever trying things again) putting up with his cheating. Not that she expected Oliver would be sleeping around much; she had noticed he was rarely seen outside of his time as the Arrow, and she wasn't sure if she should push herself into his world again. 

He had accepted it when she talked him out of giving himself up to Slade, but Oliver's life as the Arrow was a part of his world that he hadn't really shared with her, at least not with her knowing that Oliver Queen and the Arrow were the same person. If she were being honest, she had gotten kind of a thrill from those rooftop meetings with The Hood, as he was known at the time. For some, it would seem she was little more than a fan girl, and if she was being honest, that was how it had started out. But she had seen the hope he brought to this city, that her sister had contributed to as well when she arrived as the Canary, and she had begun to wonder if maybe their path wasn't the right one in certain situations. She loved the law, but she knew it wasn't perfect; she had a good example of that in Judge Moss, who had coldly informed her that theirs was a court of law, not justice, and justice was what Laurel cared about getting.

A knock on her door startled her out of her reverie and when she looked up, she was surprised to see Oliver's protégé, Roy Harper, standing there. "Roy," she said, covering her surprise with a small smile. "What can I do for you?"

Roy gestured to the door. "Mind if I make sure we have some privacy?" he asked. At Laurel's shake of her head, Roy shut the door and took a seat across from her. Laurel noted that Roy was looking conflicted before he spoke. "We need your help."

"What does Oliver need that he can't get from you or his other partners?" Laurel asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's not Oliver that's asking, Laurel," Roy replied. "And in all honesty, Felicity and Diggle don't know I'm here either because they aren't going to see things clearly. I may not have been with the team as long, but I can tell that things are breaking down and Oliver's getting the brunt of it."

"What's going on, Roy?" Laurel asked softly.

"What isn't?" Roy asked, chuckling humorously. "Felicity keeps trying to turn the Foundry into a home since Oliver's staying there, and he's fighting her on it because, as he puts it, it's not a home or an office building like Queen Consolidated, and everything there has a purpose that contributes to the mission. Diggle keeps trying to push Felicity and Oliver together, despite the fact that Felicity let Oliver have it over using her feelings for him to trick Slade last year, and both Felicity and Diggle are ignoring the possibility that we're not getting the real bosses, the ones who manipulate things without getting their hands dirty. On top of all that, Oliver's convinced that he is destined for a pine box, and he won't get involved with _anybody_ ," here, Roy gave Laurel a significant look that caused her heart rate to quicken, "because he doesn't want to leave them grieving when he's gone."

"What do you expect me to do?" Laurel asked after a few moments of considering what Roy had told her. Considering the last time that she got involved in Oliver's world it was to basically stop him from committing suicide, she couldn't say she was surprised he still had the belief he would die. "Ollie isn't exactly someone who lets people get close."

"That's true," Roy admitted, "but as Dig would say, uncharitable as it might be coming from him, you're his blind spot. He will drop anything and everything to come to your side, whether it's to fight off bad guys or just be a friendly ear. Now he needs you to do that for him. Be his friend; find a way to give him hope again, or the hope he's brought to this city is going to die with him." Roy left the office, and Laurel leaned back in her seat, contemplating what Roy had told her. As she did so, she was reminded of something her father had planned for later this week, after Steelgrave's hearing. She pulled out her cell phone and sent a text to Oliver, asking him to be there.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen smiled as he stood from where he had been sitting at a table inside The Palm, a high-end steakhouse in downtown Starling City. “Ray Palmer,” he greeted, giving the man a one-armed bro-hug.

“Oliver, it’s good to see you,” Dr. Ray Palmer, C.E.O. of Palmer Technologies and an old college friend of Oliver and Laurel’s, replied in greeting. “I was sorry to hear about your mother. Jean and I tried to fly out for the funeral, but we got caught up in things in Ivy Town. I suppose, in a way, it’s a blessing. We would have been in town during the Siege if we _had_ come for the funeral.”

“And that is the last thing I would’ve wanted for you or Jean, to be caught in the middle of Slade Wilson’s grudge against me,” Oliver said. The fact that Slade had done everything he had to destroy Oliver and everything he cared for was a matter of public record, something that couldn’t be avoided. But the fact that Oliver was the one to capture Slade was, of course, kept quiet since no one knew he was the city’s resident vigilante. “Thank you for agreeing to do this. You’re the only person I trust to see things done right.”

“I’m honored that you’re trusting your family’s company to me, Oliver,” Ray said as they took their seats. “I promise you that I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know you will, Ray,” Oliver said. “But before we get to that, I have a request.” Ray raised a questioning eyebrow. “Rochev laid off several people out of petty spite. One of them was my former executive assistant, Felicity Smoak. Felicity was only doing that job because I couldn’t give her the job that I really wanted her in: head of Applied Sciences. I was hoping you would give her a chance.”

“Felicity Smoak has a black mark on her record from her days at M.I.T. if I remember right,” Ray said, frowning thoughtfully.

“I seem to recall a man who's submission to a science competition was a robot that malfunctioned and shot laser beams at Professor Martin Stein when he called it an _inefficient_ design,” Oliver said, and Ray flushed at that; it hadn’t been his proudest moment. “If a man like that can become C.E.O. of a billion-dollar industry, then surely the woman who tried to _stop_ her boyfriend from using her program to wipe out _student loans_ in the Department of Education can be given a fair shot at making the most out of herself?"

"Fair point," Ray acknowledged. "Alright, Oliver, I'll give it a few days and then approach her with an offer."

"You won’t be disappointed," Oliver promised. "Now, let's get this out of the way so we can enjoy damn good steak and relatively-decent conversation."

"What, you mean you actually know how to make small talk these days?" Ray joked as he handed Oliver the contract and pen. Oliver read through it carefully, making sure Ray's legal department hadn't snuck anything in that Ray and he hadn’t already agreed on, then signed the contract and handed it back to Ray. "Alright," Ray said, waving a waiter over, "let's see if they've improved their ribeye."

**_*DC*_ **

A few days after the capture of Vincent Steelgrave, the man himself was being herded onto a DOC van after having taken a plea deal offered by the city in exchange for his cooperation in dismantling his remaining organization. "Steelgrave took a plea deal of fifteen to twenty," Laurel Lance said with a smile as she turned to Oliver, who was standing beside her watching Steelgrave being loaded into the van. The man had looked back and seen the two of them standing together, and Oliver was pretty sure the glare the man aimed at them was directed to the fiery A.D.A. standing beside him. "His lawyer folded like a deck chair after I hit him with the evidence that the Arrow gathered," Laurel added, flashing Oliver a brilliant smile as she turned. The two of them began walking away from the courthouse. "Did you ever think we'd end up as business partners?" Laurel asked with a teasing lilt and was rewarded with a slight uplifting of Oliver's lips. Not quite a smile, but closer than his usual dour expression. "You catch them, I cook'em," she said, then took a theatrical look around them. "Did I say that too loud?" she asked, injecting worry into her tone.

She was rewarded in her efforts by Oliver's laughing reply. "No, you're fine. Is that why you invited me down here, Laurel? To see Mr. Steelgrave off into his new life?"

"No," she said. "I have a surprise for you." She turned her attention forward, and Oliver followed her gaze. His eyebrows popped up as he spotted the newly-minted Captain Quentin Lance standing at a podium with a gaggle of reporters waiting on him.

"What's your Dad doing here?" Oliver asked Laurel.

"You'll see," she said with a smile. "Wait here a sec, okay?" At Oliver's silent nod, she headed over to speak to her father.

"Dad," she said as he gave a small 'hey' in greeting. "How are you?"

"Well, if they'd told me press conferences came with the promotion, I'd have told them I prefer getting shot at," Quentin said, the humor in his tone taking away the bite of the words.

"Good thing your doctors didn't give you a choice, then," Laurel said, her mouth quirking up just a little.

"You know, you could at least try to hide the fact you're happy I can't go out in the field anymore," he told her. "Oh, and if you're trying to hide something else, bringing him around to sentencing hearings and press conferences about our mutual friend isn't exactly gonna make it easy," he added with a nod in Oliver's direction.

Laurel smiled and said, "I'm not going to hide the fact I'm happy you're safe, Dad," she told him. "And I'm sure I don't know what you mean about Oliver."

"Right," Quentin said, his tone very wry. "You just like inviting him to watch you roast scumbags for kicks. Never mind the only other time he ever showed up to a hearing was when Helena rolled into town last year." He gave her a knowing look and she smiled at him again before turning and heading back to Oliver.

"What's wrong?" Oliver said quietly as she came to a stop beside him.

"Later," she said. "Just watch." Oliver turned his attention back to Captain Lance as the man began the press conference.

"Thank you all-" Lance began, but the microphone whined. "Excuse me," Quentin said as he lowered his voice. "Thank you for coming. Five months ago, this city was under siege, and the S.C.P.D. rallied behind a man in a hood, a vigilante who went on to stop the terrorist known as Slade Wilson, just as he sought to stop Malcolm Merlyn from unleashing his Undertaking on the Glades. Well, I ended up with a captain's rank, and he didn't even get a thank you. But today, he _does_. Today, the Starling City Police Department is formally recognizing the individual known as The Arrow, and I am using my new position to disband the anti-vigilante task force assigned to capture him."

As Quentin continued, declaring he wouldn't hunt the Arrow in the name of the city when the Arrow had saved it, Oliver turned to Laurel, who was smiling up at him. "Thank you," he said.

"You've given this city hope, Ollie," she told him quietly, threading the fingers of her right hand through the fingers of his left. "My father and I included." She turned so she was facing him and reached up with her left hand to brush his cheek. "You're not just a vigilante hiding in the dark to me, Ollie," she told him. "You're a symbol of hope. Yes, its tainted by darkness, but in this city, everything is tainted in some way by darkness. What you do has given people hope where they didn't have it before."

Oliver would in later years claim that what happened next was due to nothing more than the brief renewed sense of hope Laurel had given him, hope that he latched onto like any man in his position would. "Laurel," he asked quietly, "would you have dinner with me tomorrow?"

"Sure," she said with a smile. "Our favorite Italian place?"

"Sounds good," he said. He was a bit cash-flush now that he had sold the company to Ray, who he knew would turn the flailing Queen Consolidated into a surplus division of Palmer Technologies. A part of him regretted abandoning his family's company, but he also felt relief. For two years now, people who had tried to hurt Starling had used technologies developed, in part or fully, by Queen Consolidated. Oliver had to agree with his sister in this regard; there was just too much bad blood for Starling City when it came to Queen Consolidated. Merlyn Global, at least, had folded and vanished with the exposure of Malcolm's terrorism and the death of Tommy. 

As he and Laurel broke apart, his phone buzzed. Pulling it out, he looked at the unfamiliar number for a moment before answering. "Oliver Queen," he said politely.

"It's Barry, Barry Allen," said the man who had saved his life the previous year. "I woke up. I could use some advice."

"I can't exactly get to Central City quickly, Barry," Oliver said.

"I'm in Starling," Barry replied. "That's part of what I need to talk to you about."

"Meet me at the Foundry," Oliver said with a sigh. "I'm guessing this is something you want to talk about in private."

"Thank you," Barry said.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver found Barry waiting for him in the main room of Verdant. "Barry," Oliver said with a nod. Barry nodded back and followed Oliver to the door that led to his base of operations beneath Verdant. Barry noted the code Oliver punched in but realized now wasn't the time to ask him about it.

Once the two were ensconced in the Foundry, Oliver leaned up against a table as Barry took a seat in the chair Felicity normally used. "What's going on, Barry?" Oliver asked, somehow sensing Barry's trepidation.

"What do you know about the particle accelerator explosion?" Barry asked.

"Not as much as I'd like," Oliver admitted. "The Siege left me with very few I could call on for information, and I want to save the few ties I have left for a rainy day." In other words, it had taken all of his considerable leverage over Amanda Waller to keep the woman from sending Lyla and Dig to Leavenworth and using Felicity’s past to get her renditioned as vengeance for being held at gunpoint in her own building. What little pull he had left with The Wall, he wanted to keep for the day when it was needed most.

"Okay," Barry sighed. "When the accelerator exploded, it sent elements that had been thought theoretical into our world, Oliver. Those elements combined with people and things, giving people abilities. When I was hit by that lightning, it changed me. I can run fast, really fast. I made the journey from Central City to Starling in five minutes, Oliver. Another metahuman, that's what we're called by those who know about it, has the ability to control the weather. He's a bank robber, and he's killed people. No one at C.C.P.D. is gonna listen to me because they don't want to accept the strange is real, and what's left of the team at S.T.A.R. Labs won't do anything directly."

"So why come to me?" Oliver asked after he processed what Barry had told him.

"Because you know that this world is more than people want to see," Barry said, "and you're willing to fight against the ones who go bad. I heard about the Siege."

Oliver sighed. "That's why you came to me," he said, "but what is it that drove you to come to me? Why did you even want my advice on this?"

"Because I want to do more," Barry said after a few moments. “Helping S.T.A.R. Labs isn't enough. Not when I know there are people with abilities out there, hurting people. But I don't know if I can do what you do, Oliver. I'm not like you. I'm not some vigilante."

Oliver nodded, folding his arms across his chest as he got a pensive expression on his face. "I've thought a lot about what I am to people on the way over here, thanks to something a friend recently told me," Oliver said, leaning against the table, "and more importantly what I want to be. A man I knew years ago told me that the essence of heroism is to die so others can live." Here, Oliver gave a tired, and humorless smile. "So far, I've come to close to dying to save my city a number of times, but I haven't. So, I'm no hero. As for the other word… vigilante. A vigilante is just a man in a mask fighting against the tide, but not able to see the shore, the end goal. I know what the end goal is for me, the future that I want to see for my city."

"So, what are you?" Barry asked.

"To this day, there are certain things, certain images that inspire something in people," Oliver said quietly. "Despite cynicism and politics, the Statue of Liberty still represents freedom to people, inspires them to be more. The swastika still inspires revulsion and disgust for the actions of the Nazis and is a constant reminder of the terror they inspired over half a century later."

"Symbols," Barry said softly.

"Yes," Oliver replied. "Symbols inspire primal feelings in all of us, Barry. As a good friend recently told me, I brought hope back to Starling. I didn't think I did; I didn't set out to. But that's what I did, and I know that I inspired dread in the powerful and corrupt, or at least I used to. So, if you want my advice, be a symbol. Find something that will inspire the people you want to help and frighten those you want to take down. But if these people are like you… how will you contain them? I know killers, Barry; I am one, even if I've worked hard to be more. But you're not."

"I'll have to get back to you on the containment part," Barry said quietly. "Any other advice?"

Oliver was silent for a moment. "Two things," he said. "First, keep metahumans and their existence a secret from the general public for as long as possible. Humanity fears what it can't understand, Barry, and this will be no different. When the secret does come out, and it will, you need to be ready. Find a way to put the message out there that there are good and bad metahumans, just like good and bad normal people."

"And the second thing?" Barry asked.

"You can't do something like this alone, but be careful who you trust with your secret," Oliver said. "Some people can be trusted… and others will try to exploit it. Judge carefully." Oliver tilted his head. "One other thing…" He went to one of the desks and pulled open a drawer. He pulled out a cylindrical device and tossed it at Barry, who caught it. "That's a voice modulator," he said. "It'll be helpful if you decide to speak to someone who knows you well, but who you want to keep safe from this stranger world you now find yourself a part of."

Barry nodded slowly, a frown creasing his brow as he said, "Thank you, Oliver. If you ever need my help, well, you got my number. And for what it's worth? You gave me hope before I ever met you last year." Barry vanished in a blur of lightning, leaving Oliver looking thoughtful as he considered what the younger man had said, and what he himself had said. It was just something that had come to him after his talk with Laurel. But he would be a hypocrite if he didn't put what he advised Barry to do into action for himself and his city.

Oliver went to the computer station, using his private log-in. With things becoming somewhat strained between he and Felicity, Oliver had realized there was a possibility of Felicity not coming to the Foundry one day and he had prepared for the eventuality. Pulling out an old, battered book, he looked through the list of names, some of them scratched off, most of them still there, and remembered some of them. Adam Hunt, who swindled hundreds of poor families out of their life savings; Justin Claybourne, who created a need for a drug by weaponizing the disease it was a treatment for and then raised the prices; Jason Brodeur, who got a fixer to kill the woman about to inform on him for toxic dumping and frame her husband for it. These were the cancer, and he had cured that cancer with his bow and his grit.

There were many more names on the List, those who still ruled his city through tyranny and fear. He had once made a promise that every last one of them would wish he had died on Lian Yu. It was time to keep that promise.

**_*DC*_ **

One of the remaining crews for the Steelgrave smuggling ring were holding up in one of their less-used stash houses, watching the press conference where the Arrow had just been awarded the status of hero to the people of Starling City. "Turn that crap off," said one of the men, Cronan, as he walked into the room. "Less heat on the Arrow means more heat on us."

"And the A.T.F. has our shipment of grenade launchers," said the thug lounging on the couch beside the TV. That was, of course, the public story. Despite A.R.G.U.S.'s occasional open actions, they almost always hid them behind more recognizable faces: their efforts to keep Slade Wilson's Mirakuru Army at bay the previous year had been under the guise of the U.S. military, and more than one arrest on U.S. soil that they were responsible for had been under the guise of the F.B.I. The weapons seized by the Arrow and his team, while publicly considered to be in the evidence storage of the A.T.F., would eventually go into circulation with the agents A.R.G.U.S. had stationed both locally and abroad.

"They got our shipment already? What are we paying bribes to the cops for?" said the final man, the youngest of the Steelgrave family who had only recently begun taking an interest in the family business.

"You have a more pressing concern," said a man who had been watching the bickering from the other room. This man had been their backer in the more recent shipments, having given them a new supplier in exchange for a cut of the profits. When asked why that was, the man had simply said he had problems in his home country that needed solving. "Lack of leadership. Seeing as you are either paid thugs or inexperienced, I nominate myself. Any objections?" The man entered the room.

"Yeah, a few," Cronan said.

"Oh? Illuminate me," the Eastern European man said as he entered, giving them their first real look at him. He wore a finely-cut suit, worth far more than most people in the criminal underbelly of Starling wore. The thugs in the room were unaware of the meaning of the way it was cut, but Steelgrave did know what it meant. Those types of suits were cut in a way for the wearer to fight in, if need be.

"Well, first, there's the fact that you talk funny," Cronan replied, referring to not only the man's accent but also his high dollar vocabulary, which was a distinctive separation of this man from the people they were usually involved with. "Then there's the fact you're one of those freaks that's been popping up since that damned science experiment in Central City popped it’s cork. Finally, you decided to use a name that's associated with a designer drug whose creator got pin-cushioned by the Arrow last year. Not something that makes me confident."

"Well, you tell me," the man, known to the Steelgrave crew as Count Vertigo, said as he raised a hand towards the protesting thug. "Do you think that the police, or the Arrow, can withstand _this_?" Cronan suddenly felt his equilibrium shift, and he staggered, even as Count Vertigo, also known as Werner Zytle, the uncle to the child empress of Vlatava, approached, his intent clear in his stance. Cronan tried to raise a defense, but the constant shifting of his equilibrium kept it from being effective. The bony fist of Count Vertigo met his jaw with an explosion of pain, and Cronan was on his hands and knees before Vertigo delivered a kick to his stomach, driving him to the ground, where he curled up as Vertigo snatched up a pipe and proceeded to rain down blows on the protestor. After a full minute of this, Vertigo tossed the pipe aside, ignoring the blood and skin tissue present on it, and looked to the remainder, including the young Steelgrave. "As I was saying, the problem right now is lack of leadership. I nominate myself. Is there any objections?"

The rest of the crew had been effectively silenced. "Excellent," the man said, clapping his hands together. "Gentleman, our course is as straight as an arrow. We're going to kill him."

"How do you propose to do that?" Steelgrave asked. "No one knows who he is, and you can never be sure if he'll show up instead of the police."

"Ah, but there is a way to guarantee it," Count Vertigo said. "The first rule of any conflict, gentlemen, is to study your opponent. I have studied the Arrow and his appearances since he arrived in Starling City two years ago. Throughout his history, there is one constant, one person he comes to the aid of no matter their personal issues: Assistant District Attorney Dinah Laurel Lance. We can bring down the Arrow and get rid of the woman who took your brother out of the equation in one single move."

Steelgrave gave a lecherous smirk. "Long as we can have some fun with her before we kill her," he said. The other men in the room, minus Vertigo, nodded in agreement.

"Of course," Vertigo replied coolly. He really didn't see the appeal of the A.D.A., but she seemed to become a fixation for many, even those who despised her. He found it truly odd.

**_*DC*_ **

"Felicity Smoak?" Felicity looked up from the computer screen she was staring at behind the counter at the Tech Village she had been exiled to after being fired from Queen Consolidated by that Mirakuru-infused succubus, Isabel Rochev, and met the gaze of the man standing at the counter. Black hair, blue eyes, finely-pressed suit, boyish grin…

"If you tell me you spilled a latte on some bullet-ridden laptop, the answer is no," she said flatly.

The man chuckled and said, "I'm sure there's a long story there, but no, I'm fresh out of bullet-ridden laptops. Dr. Ray Palmer, C.E.O. of Palmer Tech."

"Right. The guy who bought Oliver's shares," Felicity nodded. She had thought Oliver abandoning his family's company was a bad idea, though if she were being honest, that was more because she knew that thanks to Isabel Rochev having her blacklisted after firing her, not to mention her _involvement_ with a certain scandal at M.I.T. during her final year there, Oliver would be the only person who would hire her. Or so she had thought, a thought that she was about to be proven wrong about.

"Yes," Ray replied. "I was going through the files of those who lost their jobs during Isabel Rochev's brief stint as C.E.O. and I was interested by your file. You have a lot of credentials, but you stayed in I.T. the entire time you were at QC until you became Oliver's E.A. I don't see any reason for you to be fired and blacklisted, but Rochev seems to have made a lot of summary firings. I was hoping we could talk about what it would take to bring you back to Palmer Tech. You were being wasted in the I.T. department of Q.C., and you're being wasted here." Ray waved a hand around. "I think you could bring something great to the table at Palmer Tech." Ray grinned. “It doesn’t hurt that Oliver told me I should give you a chance and I wanted to see if there was more to his recommendation than the scuttlebutt about the two of you around the office.” 

Felicity's jaw dropped. Immediately, all of her old self-doubts creeped up and started gnawing away at her, but she refused to let them drag her back to the woman she became after Cooper died. Working with Oliver had given her the strength she needed to face those demons head-on and endure it. Recovering, Felicity said, "Exactly what would be my job with Palmer Tech? And for the record, Oliver and I _aren’t_ a thing. We came close, but… we’ve got different priorities."

"You would be taking the position of Head of Applied Sciences," Ray replied, filing away Felicity’s comment about she and Oliver for another time. "After how the company's former heads have allowed that division to be mishandled, it needs someone with a strong moral fiber to be in charge. Your record from Q.C.'s files shows someone with a strong work ethic who pursued those who misused company resources from her position in I.T. and made sure their supervisors knew of it. I doubt you'd let Applied Sciences be misused like it was under Doug Miller when he worked for Moira Queen and Isabel Rochev."

"Well, it'll have to wait until my lunch break," Felicity said. "On the off-chance we don't agree on me coming back, I'll still need this job."

"Then I'll see you in an hour, Ms. Smoak," Ray said and walked off, leaving Felicity gaping. How did he know when she took her lunch break?

**_*DC*_ **

_"Come now, Mr. Queen, the silent treatment is hardly the act of a mature individual," Waller said once it was clear the man hanging from the ceiling wasn't going to say anything. "You can at least show the niceties, or did all those etiquette lessons your parents drummed into you vanish on Lian Yu?"_

_Finally, Oliver met her gaze. "What do you want, Waller?"_

_"Many things, Mr. Queen," Waller replied. "I want to maintain the security of our country. I want to ensure that tools such as the Mirakuru can never be discovered again. I want to make sure we keep the edge against our enemies, even if the general public thinks we're behind the times. But for the time being, Mr. Queen, I want you to listen. My agents who've visited you took the wrong approach; I see that now. You're not the kind of man who replies to the stick, so perhaps we'll see if you react to the carrot." She spoke into the comm up her right sleeve, "Bring it in."_

_A pair of agents brought in a cart, upon which was a Samsung television set and a DVD player. Oliver watched them in confusion as they hooked up the equipment. Once they had finished, Waller dismissed them and turned back to Oliver. "I don't pretend to be a good person, Mr. Queen. I have sanctioned missions that, had they failed, would've put me in a position much like you find yourself in. I am what I need to be. You, Mr. Queen… everything about you screams protector. You are willing to do what must be done, take on the burden of guilt so others don't have to. That is an admirable trait, one I need for an operation I'm preparing for. But you're not in the right mindset. I hope this will help you remember who you are, what you want, and what you're fighting for."_

_Waller set the device to play and said, "I'll be back in an hour or so. We'll talk more then."_

_For a moment, Oliver wasn't sure what was being projected on the screen in front of him. Then it hit him; he was seeing his city. Starling City was being shown from the air, a night-time fly-by of the city he had left two years ago. The image changed, and he was seeing his baby sister, but gone were the pigtails and chubbiness of pre-adolescence. In their place was a beautiful young woman, walking with her friends and joking. Despite the loss of her father and brother, his sister had maintained her innocence in other ways. Despite himself, Oliver could feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as the next image showed his mother out to dinner with a man that he recognized from company get togethers. Walter, if he remembered right. Walter Steele. Tommy arguing with his father about something wasn't surprising, but he had hoped they would patch things up. Laurel being given her law degree, being hugged by her father, who looked proud, but both tinged with sadness. Oliver couldn't help but notice that Mrs. Lance wasn't there, and he felt a pang of heartache for Laurel and her father, a pang heightened by the fact he was ultimately responsible for Sara's death at Slade's hands._

_Oliver just hung there, watching his loved ones in different parts of their daily lives, unaware they had been recorded. A part of him was angry at the clear breach of their privacy, but another part of him was happy to see them, to see them living their lives. For two hours, he watched the recordings, and finally, when Waller returned and turned off the device, he turned to look at her. "What do you want me to do?"_

_Waller smiled and turned to the guard accompanying her. "You can release him now," she said, and the man moved forward to undo Oliver's shackles._

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver finished looking over the information the worm he had deployed to seek out information on those who were on the List had gathered, his expression dark. Like before, it was nothing obvious; the people who were on the List stayed within the bounds of the law but still caused so much pain and suffering in Starling. The law couldn't touch them or wouldn't. He knew why he abandoned the List; it was a reminder of his failure to stop the Undertaking, of Tommy's death; but because of his abandonment of the List, so many had been left unchecked, and others who remained alive had resurfaced and gained a foothold again.

"What are you doing?" asked Roy as he entered the Foundry, once more the first of the team to arrive. That was becoming more and more common of late, Oliver noted; like himself, Roy didn't have much of a life outside of the Foundry. Roy spotted the tattered book and raised an eyebrow. "Is that what I think it is?"

"This is the List that Malcolm Merlyn, my parents, and others made," Oliver confirmed, picking up the book and handing it over to Roy, who took it and leafed through the pages. "I did some research. It's just like before, and some of them have even regained power." Oliver gestured to the computer, and Roy joined his mentor, looking through the evidence and his lips thinned as he spotted the same patterns in a way only those who had known desperation could. "I failed this city when I abandoned the List, Roy. But I won't _keep_ failing it."

"Who's first?" Roy asked.

"Daniel Hollinger," Oliver said, bringing up the information. "He targets low-income families with get-rich-quick scams, scams they're willing to engage in out of desperation and once they're heavily in debt, Hollinger reaps the benefits on the other side of the fence: he runs a debt collection agency under a shell corporation."

"What's the play?"

"We pay Mr. Hollinger a visit," Oliver said. "He'll have twenty-four hours to repay those he's swindled. After that, we do it the hard way."

"Where's Felicity and Dig?" Roy asked, realizing that the two hadn't shown up yet. They were usually here within minutes of him if they hadn't arrived beforehand.

"I gave them the night off," Oliver said. "Lyla went into labor and Dig should be with her. Felicity got a job offer and asked for some time to think about it. Well, and she asked what I thought she should do. She's thinking things over. I didn't want to interrupt things for her."

"There's more to it than that," Roy said after a few moments. "You're pushing them away. Why?"

"I had a talk with a friend, he needed some advice," Oliver said. "It’s why I looked at the List again. How could he take my advice if I didn't follow it for our city?"

"That mean you're gonna try and push Laurel and I away, too?" Roy asked dryly.

"No," Oliver said quietly. "You sought me out, joined my crusade because you wanted to. Laurel sought my help more than once, again because she wanted to. It was different for Felicity and Dig. I twisted them, used what they valued to bring them in by testing them with slip-ups and really bad cover stories. They weren't meant for this life. I recruited them to make it easier on myself; I could use Diggle as a body double if I was arrested, and Felicity longed to be a part of something that was doing _good_ again instead of the drudgery of office work. But I won't push too hard. If they truly want to stay, they'll find a reason to. But if their heart isn't really in this fight, I'm giving them the out they didn't know they were looking for."

"Huh," Roy said. "You're getting sentimental as you get older, aren't you?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "We're not getting into that debate again. Suit up, Arsenal."

"Aye, aye, old man," Roy said with a cheeky grin.

"Kids," Oliver muttered. He checked his phone as he headed for his own case and sighed. Still no word from Thea, despite every effort he had made to reach out to her. Despite what he had thought was their reconciliation before the Siege, she had yet to contact him, and he was worried that she had decided to cut all ties. He hadn't asked Felicity to track her down yet, because he had decided he would give his sister the space she needed. Still, it hurt that she wouldn't even answer his texts.

**_*DC*_ **

Whistling to himself, Daniel Hollinger entered his apartment, ready to spend another night wooing some of the more pliable of the opposite sex online. If you made enough, they didn't care how much of an asshole you were, and Hollinger had long ago decided that he wasn't going to let himself get involved with anyone seriously because that was just too much risk. These days, with all these feminist types running the show, he'd be lucky to end up with a dime to his name. Still, it wasn't a complete loss not having to deal with the stress of having a family.

Hollinger's thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the hardwood floor in his kitchen. As he looked up, he found himself facing two men whose images had been caught on the nightly news more than once. The Arrow and his new little sidekick, Arsenal. "W-what do you want?"

" **Daniel Hollinger,** " the Arrow began, drawing his bow and nocking an arrow in it.

" **You've failed this city,** " Arsenal finished, and the two archers both fired. Their arrows flew by Hollinger's quivering form, and the frightened man was minutely aware of a sickly wet feeling trickling its way down his leg. " **Great,** " Arsenal said disgustedly. " **He pissed himself.** "

" **He's going to have a lot more to worry about than a pair of soiled boxers if he doesn't right his wrongs,** " the Arrow growled out. " **You prey on those who are desperate to turn their lives around, Hollinger, ensuring they can never pay back the debts they owe you and then you squeeze them for more.** "

" **You're going to transfer twenty million dollars into Starling City Liberty Trust Account 1141,** " Arsenal told the frightened man, who nodded rapidly, not wanting to get pin-cushioned like the Arrow was famous for despite having mellowed out a bit since he first began. " **You have twenty-four hours. After that, we're going to just take it, and you won't like how we do it.** "

The archers vanished and Hollinger collapsed shaking to his knees. A part of him thought of calling the police, but if it was that captain who was meant to handle this type of call, he'd be better off just doing what the vigilantes said. Maybe it was time to move… Metropolis or National City, maybe?

**_*DC*_ **

Shutting the door to her apartment softly, Dinah Laurel Lance leaned against it with a sigh for a moment, closing her eyes. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" she muttered quietly. "You know as soon as something happens, he'll shut down and won't let you reach him."

"Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, you know," a perky voice quipped from the vicinity of her couch. Despite recognizing the voice, Laurel jumped slightly at the unexpected comment, then chuckled ruefully and turned to see her little sister laying back on the couch, looking for all the world as though she owned the apartment instead of Laurel. That was just Sara's way; irritating but lovable. "Now, the 'he' you're talking about wouldn't be a certain archer with an Atlas complex we both know?" Sara shook her head at the flush that came to Laurel's cheeks. "You and your bad boy fixation," she teased her older sister.

"It's good to see you, Sara," Laurel said, and the two women hugged, basking in one another's presence for a moment before pulling away. "But what are you doing here?" Laurel grimaced. "Sorry, I know, you can't tell me. I just hope it’s not what I think it is."

"I don't do that part of the job anymore," Sara said with a tired smile, not wanting to reveal too much about why she was here. The League had been rather _gracious_ in not targeting her family after she sent that message back to Ra's, and she wondered to this day why that was. She had asked Ra's once, after her return, and he had simply said that she would know, in time. She was pretty sure it had to do with why he didn't see her as worthy of being with Nyssa, but one did not push the Demon's Head for answers unless one wanted to lose their own head in the process. "I'm just doing a bit of recon. No bodies are getting dropped, so you don't gotta worry about perjuring yourself or anything," she added, and noted her sister relax slightly.

"Well, I'm glad you dropped by," Laurel said. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, and Dad," Sara said. The two sat on the couch as Sara continued, "So, what's been going on here? What brought on you and Ollie going out again?"

"I got a visit a few days ago from Roy," Laurel began, and proceeded to explain to Sara what Roy had told her and why she had accepted Oliver's invitation. "Besides," she finished with a sad smile, "I've tried to deny it, but he's the love of my life, even if he doesn't see me the same way."

" _Laurel,_ " Sara stressed her sister's name; once Laurel's attention was firmly on her, Sara continued, "You need to understand something. For people like Ollie and I… sharing our feelings doesn't come as easy as it did before the _Gambit_ , and we both know Ollie was bad at it even before.” Laurel grimaced and nodded at that, thinking of how all the pain and heartache might’ve been avoided if Oliver had actually _talked_ with her instead of trying to be subtle in his disquiet over the idea of the two of them moving in together, which had culminated in him taking Sara with him on the _Gambit_. “I think it's harder for him because at least I had Nyssa most of the time I was gone. Ollie… he had nothing but darkness. But think about this for a second: how many times has he gone out of his way to help you? To be there, as Oliver or as the Arrow? Even during the Siege, he used Felicity's feelings for him to trick Slade, and while he'll tell himself that it was only to beat Slade, there's a part of him that did it because Slade had you and he needed to keep Slade from killing you by giving him another target. The only options were me and Felicity, and Slade would be prepared for me; he never would’ve believed Felicity capable of doing what she did. Oliver is still mentally on the island and wherever else he's been, Laurel. You represent home to him."

"When did you get so wise?" Laurel asked after a moment.

"I've always been wise," Sara said cheekily.

"No, you've always been a wise-ass," Laurel said.

"You been checking out my ass? Sorry, sis, but I draw the line at incest," Sara teased, and the two laughed a bit. "Now, I think it's time to find the right outfit to drive Mr. Queen out of his mind. Any thoughts?"

After a quick brainstorming session, the two had decided on an outfit for Laurel to wear the next evening, and Sara left for wherever she was staying. She paused at the window (her chosen exit point) for a moment, debating on whether to tell Laurel something she had heard in Nanda Parbat, but decided not to burden her sister with it. She would tell Oliver when they next saw each other; knowing him, he would find some way to meet up with her when Laurel told him she was back in town, albeit briefly.

Back at Laurel's apartment, the lawyer had changed from her work attire into a more casual outfit (jeans and a light sweater) when there was a knock at the door. Figuring it was her father or Oliver, she went and answered it, a smile starting to form on her face for whoever was on the other side, only to find a trio of men standing on the other side. One of them was dressed in high-dollar clothing, while the other two had more of a 'street thug' vibe in both demeanor and what they wore. "Can I help you?" She asked guardedly, calculating how long it would take her to reach the gun she kept in the hallway drawer.

"A.D.A. Laurel Lance, yes?" The well-dressed man asked, and she noted he had a slight accent, eastern Europe, perhaps? "I apologize for calling so late, but we have some rather urgent business. We're looking to get into contact with an associate of yours. One that has a liking for green arrows."

Laurel immediately shoved the door closed and turned on her heel, heading for the small nightstand in the hall that held the gun she kept for home defense. She heard the door crash open as she reached the drawer. As her hand closed around the gun, she felt as though the world was tilting on its axis and she stumbled, the gun clattering to the floor as she looked up. The three men shifted and tilted in her vision as she looked up at them. Two moved forward, while the third maintained his focus on her, a hand outstretched for a few more moments before dropping. She felt herself being lifted into the air and pulled away, and then blackness.

Sara Lance, who had doubled back because she had decided to make sure Laurel knew what she had heard in Nanda Parbat just in case she and Ollie didn't meet up while she was in town, saw her sister being hustled into a black van by three men. Snatching up her surveillance camera, she captured as many images as she could of the men who had taken Laurel before following the van from the rooftops, shadowing them to the warehouse district of the city.

Crouching on a cross beam, she watched as her sister was tied to a chair and left in the middle of the room with two guards. The well-dressed man who had been directing the effort to catch her sister went into an office in the back. Sara noticed Laurel was awake and looking around. Their eyes met and Sara held a finger to her lips, but she could picture the relief in Laurel's green eyes. Idly, she wondered how these guys had managed to get the drop on Laurel. Even when she had gotten out of shape, her big sister could still handle her own unless she was completely outnumbered, and three thugs wasn't enough. Maybe that well-dressed guy?

Sara scouted out the best possible escape route once she had freed Laurel, took note that the well-dressed man seemed to have remained in the office, and nodded to herself. It was time; she leaped into action, using the silk rope that members of the League of Assassins used to bolster their agility and seeming capacity to appear out of nowhere to descend quickly, taking out one of the men guarding Laurel before he even knew what was happening. His partner had a moment to widen his eyes before she delivered a kick to his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.

As Sara pulled one of her many, many knives to cut her sister free, she felt as though her center of gravity had suddenly shifted. She stumbled briefly, then used the training from the League to center herself and straightened, focusing on the well-dressed man as he approached, eying her with interest. "You must have an unusually strong will, my dear," the man said.

"Willpower and training go a long way," she said, and threw the knife in his direction. He shocked her by plucking it out of the air and proceeding to examining it.

"Fine craftsmanship," he declared. "Now…" He locked eyes with her, a hand outstretched, and she felt her center of gravity shift again, this time it was even worse. She heard Laurel retching; she was caught in the phenomena as well, it appeared. "If I recall right, you're the woman who was working with the Arrow last year. Amusing; I thought this lovely woman here might be her. But I guess she is just a lawyer after all. But you'll be useful, as well. I want you to give the Arrow a message for me. Tell him that if he doesn't surrender himself to me at these coordinates by midnight, I'll feed Miss Lance here to a woodchipper." Sara felt the man slide a piece of paper into her outfit, between her breasts, and she remembered Nyssa telling her she exposed too much. The man ran a finger along one as he pulled away, and she heard the sound of a chair scraping as her sister was pulled away again. _I'm going to kill him,_ she thought to herself as she waited for her equilibrium to reset. _Ollie's code be damned. He has my sister_ and _he's a deviant._

**_*DC*_ **

_Oliver rubbed his wrists as he was sat down in a chair across from Waller. Two guards remained in the room now that he was free, and despite himself, a small part eyed them and gauged how much of a problem they would be for him to take out. Standard tactical gear, sidearms, and a dead look in their eyes. These men were not unlike the men Fyers had had under his command on Lian Yu; the difference being Fyers and his men were mercenaries, and these were presumably government operatives._

_"The operation I have in mind for your help on requires you to have a variety of skills, Mr. Queen," Waller told him. "You will stay within this facility and learn the skills the men I send to you instruct you in. Once they have decided you are at a level of proficiency suitable for the task, the operation will be green-lit, and you will be provided a full briefing. For now, know that if this operation fails, people you care about could be caught in the crossfire."_

_Oliver met her gaze. "Why me?" He asked. "Why do you want me on this?"_

_"Because I've watched you, Mr. Queen," Waller said. "Twice you have turned the tide in an impossible situation, with minimal training and resources at that. Men and women with your kind of tenacity are a rarity, Mr. Queen. There are many who would seek to turn you into an asset that do not have the greater good in mind. You should count yourself lucky that it was my people who fished you from the ocean and not one of those organizations.”_

_“Yeah, I’m real lucky,” Oliver sniped._

_"Perhaps one day you will realize just how fortunate you have been, Mr. Queen," Waller said, standing. "But for now, I suggest you get some rest. Tomorrow, your training begins." As Waller stood, Oliver made his move. He erupted out of his chair, grabbing and throwing it at one of the guards, sending the man sprawling to the ground as Waller backed away, watching the ensuing fight shrewdly._

_Oliver shot forward, delivering a right hook to the jaw of the second guard to disorient him and seized the man's sidearm. Without hesitation, he shot both guards in the head, and as they slumped to the ground, the brain matter splattered on the wall seeming to not even affect him, Oliver turned on Waller, gun raised to point directly at her head. She met his gaze coolly, studying him as though he were an interesting specimen rather than the man who had just killed two of her men and was now holding her life in his hands, so to speak. "What now, Mr. Queen?" She asked softly._

_"You are going to help me get out of here," Oliver said, "or I am going to kill you."_

_"This is a highly-secured government facility, Mr. Queen," Waller replied. "Do you think that you'll even get close to the exit?"_

_"If we don't, you'll be left with a round in your head," Oliver said, moving around behind her. He nudged her in the small of her back with the pistol. "_ Move _."_

**_*DC*_ **

"Well, he did that pretty quick," Roy said as he and Oliver looked over the online statement from the specified account that they had given Hollinger. "It's only been, what, two hours?"

"I guess I still have enough of a reputation that they don't want to risk me going back to basics," Oliver said. "And they got no idea what you're capable of. Remember that our masks can be worn, and our bows can be wielded by anyone. That's the symbolism in it. It could be anyone doing this." Roy nodded; Oliver had told him about how he told the friend he mentioned earlier about being a symbol, not just a man in a mask.

"Ollie!" The two turned, both smiling slightly as they saw Sara enter the Foundry, but those smiles faded when they saw the grim expression on her face and the piece of paper held in her hand.

"Sara, what's going on?" Oliver asked.

"Laurel was kidnapped," Sara said. "They want you to turn yourself over to them here by midnight, or…" She trailed off, handing the paper to Oliver.

"Or what?" Roy asked while Oliver moved to the computer, pulling up a map of the city to run the coordinates by.

"The guy who took her said he'd feed Laurel to a woodchipper," Sara bit out, her fingernails cutting into her palms. "Ollie, this guy… he could affect my mind, made me think my center of gravity was off."

"How?" Oliver asked.

"He-he seemed to focus whatever he was doing through his hand, but he also did it just by looking at me," Sara said. "I've never felt anything like that before."

Oliver frowned. "Sounds like he's one of the metahumans," he muttered to himself, and the other two in the room exchanged an exasperated yet amused look. Only Oliver could somehow know about these types of things and say it without sounding like he was incredibly shocked.

"Uh, care to clue the rest of us in?" Roy asked. "Metahuman?"

Oliver sighed and explained what he could about the S.T.A.R. Labs particle accelerator, the metahumans it had created, and that the friend he had spoken with earlier could now run at high speeds without any issue and that he had wanted Oliver's advice on what to do about the metahumans. They both noted that Oliver was keeping from mentioning the name of the friend, but Roy had a sneaking suspicion it was the gawky-looking guy that had shown up at the Queen Christmas party last year and danced with Felicity; from what he'd heard, the guy had been struck with lightning the night the accelerator exploded. Roy was no scientist, but it didn't take a genius to put things together.

"How do we take down someone like that?" Roy asked now.

Oliver rubbed his jaw. "I'll be back," he said. "Oh, and we've got our target location. The Guggenheim Projects." The Guggenheim Projects had been an attempt by an entrepreneur to give low-income families a decent place to live with all the amenities that came with most middle-class to upper-middle class apartment contracts: Internet, cable, utilities, etc. It had fallen through due to a lack of willingness on those in power to grant it the necessary subsidies. As a result, it was now seen as a reminder of lost hopes and dreams.

**_*DC*_ **

The Arrow stood on a rooftop looking out towards the Glades. He felt a woosh of air behind him and heard the crackle of electricity. He turned and found a slight figure in a dark red outfit behind him; on the man's chest was a symbol, golden lightning on a red background. " **I see you took my advice about becoming a symbol,** " the Arrow said as he stepped down from the ledge. " **Picked out a codename yet?** "

" **Hey, I just started,** " the other man said, his voice likewise modulated. " **Give me some time. I'm new to this.** "

" **Well, if you don't pick a name, they'll end up calling you the Streaker or something,** " the Arrow said. " **Maybe not now, but eventually, the word on metahumans is going to get out and you might want people to know the name of the symbol that is standing for the good ones and against the bad ones. You spoke with your friends about my problem?** "

" **I had a friend whip up something to help,** " the other man said. " **From what you described, it sounds like this guy can induce vertigo in people and he uses that. These earbuds,** " here, the man in red handed his green-hooded counterpart a small box, " **will emit a signal that keeps the electrical and chemical balance of your brain from being influenced by an outside source.** "

" **Remember what I said about the name,** " the Arrow replied. " **And thank you.** "

" **Anytime,** " the man in red said, and vanished in a blur of lightning.

**_*DC*_ **

The Arrow had to admit that their mysterious adversary had chosen the meeting place for this well. The Guggenheim Projects were the highest buildings in their part of the city, leaving them with no way of getting onto the roof unseen by any of the abductor's men. Roy had scouted ahead in civilian clothing and noticed several people simply lounging about, apparently reading something on their cell phones or waiting for busses. It was the sharp eyes darting here and there, looking for something, that had marked them as lookouts for this mysterious metahuman.

So, Oliver had decided to move in solo, with Roy and Sara heading into the projects looking like a pair of lovers looking for someplace to get it on without someone messing things up for them. Sara's idea, naturally, though she had warned Roy if he tried anything fresh, she'd cut his balls off and feed them to a dog; suffice to say, he had been cowed by the very thought. No one even gave a second glance at the two; Sara could maintain the air of a college sorority girl when she needed to (something she almost took a perverse level of pride in) and Sara's friend Sin had mocked Roy about his frat boy looks more than once. The Arrow had maintained the focus of the watchers, and he moved into the courtyard of the Guggenheim Projects where the metahuman was waiting with two men guarding Laurel.

" **Are you alright?** " The Arrow asked, looking to Laurel. She nodded, looking towards the metahuman with worry. No doubt she wondered if he could handle the man. The Arrow focused on his mysterious adversary. " **So, what do I call you?** "

"I am Count Vertigo," the man said grandly, giving a slight bow as though they were in the court of royalty.

" **Last person who used that name and threatened someone I considered a friend ended up with three arrows in the chest,** " the Arrow said. " **So, I hope you have something more up your sleeve than some rent-a-thugs.** "

"I've got nothing up my sleeve," Vertigo said, raising an arm towards the Arrow. "Take a look." He focused his abilities and directed them at the archer, who stood there and tilted his head slightly.

" **Was that supposed to do something?** " The Arrow snarked as he fired a pair of bolo arrows at the goons guarding Laurel. " **Go,** " he told her, and she ran past the goons and out of the courtyard, where she met Sara and Roy dispatching the last of Vertigo's outlying watchers, who had moved in once the Arrow entered the projects.

Back in the courtyard, Vertigo eyed the Arrow with suspicion. "Even the woman was affected, and you seem less-disciplined. No matter. I am skilled enough in martial combat." Vertigo rushed forward, the Arrow doing the same. The Arrow leaped up and came down with a solid blow to Vertigo's jaw. The man backpedaled but remained upright, sneering with blood-stained teeth. He delivered a running kick to the Arrow's chest. The archer rallied quickly and blocked Vertigo's follow-up attack, a right hook, before delivering a straight punch to the man's solar plexus. As Vertigo wheezed from the rush of air that left his lungs from the blow, the Arrow followed up by dropping to the ground and scissoring Vertigo's legs out from under him. The man dropped to the ground, his head slamming into the concrete. Disoriented and not liking the feeling, Vertigo made to stand up only to be caught in wires like his men had.

The Arrow drew one of his lethal arrows and aimed it at the man's heart. This wasn't a common criminal. This wasn't some street hood who would be in jail for a few years (if not more for kidnapping an assistant district attorney who also happened to be the daughter of a police captain). This was a metahuman, someone with abilities beyond the comprehension of most police officers, even those who had seen the monstrosity that was Slade's Mirakuru army. His training screamed at him that this was the kind of thing that he had been trained for. It was better to rid the world of this evil than let it endure.

As the bow drew taught, however, the downed man's bloody visage was replaced by the hazy image of the man who had, in essence, given birth to the Arrow from the ashes of the Hood in the first place: Tommy Merlyn. The Arrow faltered as he saw the face of the man who had been his best friend in life; then the image of his best friend vanished, replaced by a laughing Count Vertigo.

"What's the matter?" Vertigo asked. "Lost your edge?"

" **No,** " the Arrow growled. " **Just remembered a promise.** " He returned the arrow to his quiver and delivered a silencing blow to the downed criminal's face. " **Arsenal, call Captain Lance,** " the Arrow said to his partner, who was in the middle of driving Laurel and Sara back to the lair. " **Tell him to send a unit to the Guggenheim Projects and one of the suspects is to be considered as dangerous as Slade Wilson. The well-dressed one.** "

"Got it, Arrow," Roy replied. The Arrow looked around at the downed men before firing an ascension arrow and escaping to the roof of the projects. He would make his way back to the lair from there; he needed to think.

**_*DC*_ **

_Oliver and Waller had barely made it to the end of the corridor before Oliver's escape attempt was cut off. Showing surprising agility for a woman in high heels, Waller turned and disarmed Oliver at the same time a figure clad in a black uniform with crimson trim at the cuffs and collar dropped from where he had been watching the 'escape' with amusement. The man grabbed Oliver from behind in a chokehold. Oliver fought, but the man's grip was too strong. The last thing Oliver saw before he lost consciousness was Waller's smug expression as she held the weapon loosely at her side, confident in her agent's ability to quell Oliver's resistance._

_When Oliver next came to consciousness, he was once again shackled to the ceiling, and a row of screens had been moved into the room. They were blank at the moment, but Oliver wondered what it was they intended to show him. More home movies of his family being safe and happy to motivate him, perhaps? If they intended to motivate his drive to escape this hellhole, then that was fine with him; he'd take it and use it so that next time, no one would get the drop on him._

_Waller entered along with the man Oliver presumed had taken him down in the hallway. He studied him, as the man did the same in return. Waller drew Oliver's attention as she stepped forward. "I must say, Mr. Queen, that while I expected you to eventually make such a move, I did not expect you to do it so quickly. Luckily, I am a woman who prepares for every eventuality. I showed you the carrot earlier, Mr. Queen, but that was only part one of my attempt to motivate you to work with us. Here is part two."_

_She raised the clicker in her hand and activated the screens. Oliver's breath caught in his throat and he felt as though his heart was thumping painfully against his ribcage. On the screen were images of Laurel, Thea, and Tommy, all of them sleeping peacefully. Just inside each shot was a hand with a K-Bar knife held tightly, aimed towards the sleeping figures of Oliver's best friend, little sister, and lost love. "This, Mr. Queen, is my version of the stick," Waller said as she stepped closer. "These are not pre-recorded images. These are live-streamed from the Queen Mansion, Merlyn Manor, and Laurel Lance's apartment." She raised her wrist to her mouth and said, "Agent T, place your knife against Miss Queen's throat. Not too tight; we don't want her waking up."_

_Oliver strained against his chains as the knife in the screen moved against the neck of his sleeping sister. Thea stirred but didn't awaken, lost in whatever world of dreams she lived in. Seeing his innocent little sister being threatened by this psychopathic bitch, and seeing Waller's resolution in her stone-cold gaze, broke what resistance Oliver had. He sagged in the chains and looked at Waller. "Alright," he said. "Alright. You win. Just… don't hurt her. You've made your point. You have the power here."_

_"Yes, Mr. Queen, I do," Waller said with satisfaction. She once more raised her wrist. "All agents withdraw." She clicked the screens off and nodded at the man who had come in with her. He undid the shackles on Oliver. "Mr. Queen, I would like you to meet Agent Mark Shaw, codenamed Manhunter. He'll be getting you back into peak condition and work with you on tactical awareness. If you attempt to escape, or if Mr. Shaw is killed by you, a signal will be sent and one of the people you love will die in a tragic home invasion." Waller left the two men standing in the cell._

_Shaw examined Oliver for a moment before nodding. "Let's go. Since you're well enough to try to escape, you don't need any rest before we begin."_

**_*DC*_ **

"Ollie," Laurel said, relieved when she saw the hooded figure of her friend come in through the back entrance. "We were starting to get worried."

"She was, I wasn't," Sara corrected as she dropped down from where she had been using the salmon ladder. "I told her you were probably busy brooding somewhere on a rooftop, glaring down at the streets like some weird gargoyle. You sure you're not part bat or something?"

"Funny," Oliver said sourly. Roy snickered; when they had been working on codenames for the team, a suggestion for Felicity had been Oracle but Oliver had shot it down, saying it was taken. That had led to him revealing some information he had learned from A.R.G.U.S. years ago. There had been a vigilante operating in Gotham City for the past thirty years who had a bat theme, and his tech specialist was codenamed Oracle.

"What happened?" Sara asked seriously. "You're usually pretty quick to come back. Roy told us you spared Vertigo."

"I had an arrow pointed at him," Oliver said, placing his bow on its stand. "He's a metahuman, capable of things beyond what some people can handle. He's dangerous. But when I pointed that arrow at him… all I saw was Tommy. I couldn't do it. I swore when I put this hood back on that I would honor Tommy's memory by not killing again. If I can spare Slade Wilson's life, I could spare this Vertigo's."

"I'm glad you didn't kill him, Ollie," Laurel said quietly. "It's not who you are, not anymore."

"What's going on?" Felicity asked as she and Diggle arrived in the lair.

"Hmm?" Oliver asked, breaking his gaze away from Laurel's green eyes.

"The news is reporting that Daniel Hollinger is packing up his businesses," Diggle said quietly, "and there's rumors that people who may have been people screwed over by Hollinger's online businesses have suddenly gotten an influx of cash. Something you want to tell us, Oliver?"

"Hollinger was on the List," Felicity said. "I dug out my electronic copy and found it. I thought you stopped using the List, Oliver." There was a hint of accusation in her voice that had Roy frowning at her while Oliver faced her impassively.

"That was a mistake," Oliver said, knowing both Laurel and Sara were eyeing him with concern as well. "I stopped using the List because of Tommy, because it was a reminder that my failure led to the death of my best friend, my brother in all but blood. I had a visit from a friend yesterday, needing some advice. After I gave it to him, I realized I needed to follow it. I looked up some of the names on the List, including ones I crossed off that weren't killed by Malcolm when he was calling me out. They were still active, still hurting people, and the ones I had taken down were out of jail and some had started up again."

Oliver turned away from the others briefly and picked up the List. "The men and women on this List may not all be mobsters," he said quietly. "They might be lawyers, judges, doctors… but they all committed crimes and are still committing crimes that hurt this city, _my_ city. They are profiting from the suffering of the people, and they don't care who they hurt so long as they maintain their wealth and power. How can I turn my back on my city's suffering when I have the tools to take these people down?" He turned to look at his friends, his team.

Roy merely gave him a nod, not that Oliver expected anything less. It was Roy who had brought his attention to this issue in the first place; Barry's visit had merely expedited returning to the List as well as dealing with the stuff not on there.

Sara gave him a smile before she said teasingly, "Give any more speeches like that, Ollie, and we might try to get you to run for mayor."

"Yes, because that's exactly what this city needs," Oliver said dryly. "A former playboy turned vigilante being the mayor. No thanks. I've had my fill of corrupt politics with Sebastian."

Laurel looked at Oliver for a moment, mulling over his words. One of the reasons she had fallen for the Arrow even without knowing it was Oliver under the hood was because he was willing to take the fight to those who used the law against the people it was meant to protect, who profited from the suffering of others and used the law to shield themselves from prosecution. To this day, she still remembered the words of Judge Moss when she was fighting to stay the execution of Peter Declan: " _Ours is not a court of justice, Miss Lance, but a court of law._ " The Hood had taken down Jason Brodeur and saved an innocent man's life by breaking the law, and despite Laurel's fear at the time of what Oliver had done to Brodeur's hitman, she now saw why he had done it; because of what that hitman had tried to do to _her_.

"He's right," she said shakily. "Jason Brodeur. Cyrus Vanch. Adam Hunt. Martin Somers. All of them used the law to shield themselves after hurting or destroying the lives it was meant to protect. The Hood, the Arrow, whatever you want to call Oliver's alter ego… He stopped those men. He stopped them outside the law and ensured they were prosecuted. The law isn't about justice in Starling. It's about who has the power, and who doesn't. Ollie brought fear to those in power and hope to the powerless." She met her ex's gaze and smiled. "I'm with you, Ollie, even if all I do is prosecute the bastards you get evidence on."

Oliver nodded. He looked at the two who had just arrived. "Dig, Felicity, I know you've both been struggling with the work I do," he told them. "You also both have opportunities to start fresh. I don't want you to not take those opportunities because of me."

Felicity was the first to speak. "I believe in what you do, Oliver," she told him. "But you're right. I want to take this opportunity at Palmer Tech. It would mean I'd have to leave the team. But if you do need help on the tech side… just ask. I won't give you up. I still believe in your mission. I just need to walk my own path, too."

"Thank you, Felicity," Oliver said. "But before you go… I never should have used your feelings for me against Slade. It may have worked, but I wasn't thinking about how you took it. I just acted, and I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven, Oliver," Felicity said. "Don't forget what I said. If you ever need my help…"

"I have your number," Oliver said with a smile. He turned his gaze on Dig.

"I'm here if you ever need to talk, Oliver," Dig said, "but I want to spend time with my family and Lyla's got an offer from another government division. From what she is able to tell me, it'll be a lot less dangerous than Starling and while I want to help you… I have to think of my family, my daughter."

"I'm happy for you, John," Oliver said genuinely. "I might call if I need your advice. I know I can be stubborn sometimes-"

"Sometimes?" Laurel and Sara chorused, causing Roy and Felicity to snicker and Dig to hide a smile. Oliver tried, but he couldn't resist the chuckle.

"Alright, most of the time," he corrected, and the Lance sisters plus Felicity nodded in unison, gaining a thought of 'creepy' from the three men (not that any of them let that show). "But you've always been a friendly ear. Where's the job offer?"

"National City," Diggle replied. "I've been looking for a job there as well. There's a few good ones. The most promising, meaning the most boring, is a job as the head of security at CatCo Worldwide Media.”

"Well, if you need a reference," Oliver said, offering a hand.

"I know who to call," Dig said, and the two gave each other a bro-hug. Felicity sniffled, causing Laurel to hand the IT girl a handkerchief. Felicity smiled in thanks.

The cordial and familial atmosphere was broken when what Felicity called the Arrowphone rang. It was their line to Captain Lance. Oliver picked it up. "Detective," he said, lips twitching as he saw Laurel and Sara grin. Regardless of the man's rank, Oliver had maintained calling him Detective and while Quentin wouldn't ever admit it, he liked that aspect of his relationship with the Arrow since he knew the Arrow used the title with respect and it wasn't meant as derision. "What can I do for you?"

Oliver listened quietly to whatever Lance was telling him, and said, "Thank you, Detective. Good luck with the others." He ended the call, and then brought his unoccupied fist down on the table, startling the others.

"What is it?" Roy asked his mentor.

"Vertigo," Oliver said with a sigh. "They can't touch him."

"Uh, Vertigo?" Felicity asked.

"Right, sorry," Oliver said. "Sara?" Felicity and Diggle listened to Sara's explanation of what happened and the existence of metahumans before the group turned back to Oliver.

"So, what did Lance say?" Diggle asked.

"Vertigo's real name is Count Werner Zytle," Oliver said. "He's the uncle to the empress of Vlatava and he has diplomatic immunity. Since we didn't inform the S.C.P.D. of exactly what Zytle and his men were doing, they don't have a complaining witness and the State Department has taken a formal complaint from Zytle about Starling allowing masked vigilantes to run amok. Which means that if Laurel were to go down there now and make a statement, it would be treated as tainted, fruit of the poisonous tree."

"Son of a bitch," Laurel bit out.

"Well, we know which parent you take after," Sara teased before sobering. "I'll reach out to Nyssa and tell her about Zytle. He's dangerous, and the League doesn't care about things like diplomatic immunity."

Oliver sighed and said, "Much as I hate it, I agree. A.R.G.U.S. would lock him up until they found a use for him, and the last thing we need is metahumans under the control of a psychopath like Amanda Waller." Diggle grunted in agreement at that. "I’ll reach out to our friend in Central City, warn him about Waller." 

"Ollie, can we talk in private?" Sara asked. Oliver nodded and turned to the others.

"Give us the room?" The group broke apart, Diggle offering Felicity a ride to work and Roy offering to give Laurel a lift home; both women accepted the offers, leaving Oliver and Sara alone in the Foundry. "What's wrong, Sara?" Oliver asked.

"I've been hearing whispers in Nanda Parbat," Sara said quietly. "They started after we got back from Starling City. Nyssa and the other assassins all reported their opinions to Ra’s about Starling. There’s whispers that Ra’s may move against Starling because of the corruption Merlyn let fester and your inability to combat it. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Starling is still my home. I want you to be ready, especially now that it’s going to be just you and Roy. Be careful, Ollie.” Sara gave Oliver a hug and departed the Foundry, leaving a troubled Oliver Queen behind.


End file.
